


Christmas 2004

by fajrdrako



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fajrdrako/pseuds/fajrdrako
Summary: Jack makes a Christmas Eve visit.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Rose Tyler
Kudos: 9





	Christmas 2004

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on my Dreamwidth account 2020.12.24.

December 24, 2004. There had been many Christmas Eves in Jack's lifetime, several lifetimes worth of them, but this one was different.

Captain Jack Harkness planned this day carefully. A slip could mess up the timestream or break his heart. A slip could erase, in a second, the happiness time he had ever known.

Still. He'd take the risk. It was worth it.

He went to the Powell Estates with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. A sense of confidence and expectation. He'd always been a risk taker. Damn the torpedoes!

Jackie Tyler opened the door. She was dressed in her Christmas best - a dress so red and shiny that it hurt the eyes, and dangling earrings. "Well, hell-oh!" she said, and smiled broadly. "You must be Rose's new friend. Merry Christmas! Come in!"

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said, shaking hands with her.

"Jacqueline Tyler," said Jackie. "But my friends call me 'Jackie' and I hope you will, too. Rose? Here's your friend."

Rose was looking uncharacteristically shy. "Hello, Jack," she said, in a low voice, and his heart turned over: she looked so pretty, so young, so vulnerable, so lovable, the young Rose, just standing on the threshold of life, with no idea what was coming up for her. Only eighteen years old. So... innocent.

Innocence was not a quality he had ever associated with Rose, even when he'd seen her, from time to time, growing up. She was smart and brave and forthright. Not innocent.

But tonight, in jeans and a red T-shirt, she looked younger than her years, and unsure of herself. It made him want to weep, to hug her, to tell her everything would be all right, to pour out his love...

Instead he gave her hand a squeeze and said, "Thanks for inviting me for supper."

"Can't let a person be alone on Christmas Eve," said Rose. "New in town and all."

"Care for eggnog?" asked Jackie.

"If it's no trouble."

"None at all!" She was filling glasses already. "Where are you from, Jack?"

"I've been travelling around since I was a boy. I was born in a place called Boeshane. Don't expect you'll have heard of it."

"No - is it in the United States? I've never been to America. Always wanted to visit. They say it's beautiful."

"You're just looking for the cowboys," said Rose, getting a little of her colour back, maybe because of the eggnog. It tasted like the drinks of Epsilonicum, which were basically clove-flavoured rum.

"I hear they're civilised there now." Jackie actually winked at Jack, and he found himself genuinely amused. "Anyway, you're the one who brought a real living cowboy home."

"I'm not a cowboy," said Jack promptly. "Never have been. I'm a space pirate, actually."

Jackie laughed loudly. Rose said, "You're both mad," and put on some music. She looked pleased that Jack was fitting in and getting on with her mother. She kept glancing at him, then away, trying to hide her interest.

She was adorable.

"And what brings you to London?" asked Jackie. It wasn't politeness, rather the opposite: she was dying of curiosity.

If he'd told the truth, he would have said, "Rose, of course." Instead he said, "Work. Boring, isn't it? Space piracy's only a part-time hobby these days. I work for a living, just like normal people."

"Do you have a family?"

"Not any more. They're all dead, except for a few who won't speak to me."

"Their loss."

"Hey, I think so! What do you do?"

"I'm a hairdresser," said Jackie. "Rose is a working woman now, too. She just got a new job at Henrick's. Good pay, too."

"He's knows that," said Rose. "That's where I met Jack, mother. He was shopping."

"Dropped my wallet right in front of the candy counter," said Jack. "Yesterday. Rose came to my rescue and we got to talking. She proved that Londoners really are friendly and welcoming."

"It's just part of my job," said Rose, looking a little defensive at the compliment. People don't thank her enough, thought Jack. They don't treat her as she deserves. She ought to be showered in compliments.

Her reminded himself that it wasn't for him to do it. Not here, not now, not yet. Not while he was stealing a little time with her, because he could.

"Do you like working at Henrick's?" he asked her.

"Yeah," said Rose. "You meet the strangest sorts of people." Then she added quickly,"I don't mean you, I mean the batty old women with fright masks on." She stuck out her arms and made a monster face. The eggnog in her hand almost spilled. "And you know what the real stinger is? They can't take the masks off."

"Scary," said Jack.

"You're telling me! But it's my job to make them happy, and sometimes I can. Sometimes it doesn't take much. Sometimes it's impossible." She shrugged. "Anyway, it's a living."

"She's hoping to get her own flat sometime soon," said Jackie. "Not too far away, I hope."

"Not planning a job in Antarctica," said Rose. She went over and gave her mother an impulsive hug. "Unless they really offer the earth."

A timer rang and Jackie rushed into the kitchen. "I was afraid you were just being polite, when you said you'd come over," said Rose. "I'm so glad you came."

He had wanted to visit her so much, he set it up. He wished he could tell her that: the thing he wanted most in the world. Aloud he said, "I don't do things just to be polite, and I'm glad you wanted me to come over."

"It gets a little boring, just me and Mum," said Rose. "I had a boyfriend but, well, that's over now. And I've friends, but..." She stopped, losing track of where that sentence was going. She was keeping her spirits up for Christmas, but he could tell that the quality of her life was wearing her down. Her spirit wanted to soar, and she was spending her time selling useless goods to graceless strangers. It was obvious that Mickey didn't even have boyfriend status yet, and Rose was floundering.

He wished he could take her away from all this, but it was the Doctor's role in her life to do that, not his. It would happen soon.

But first: Jackie's Christmas Eve supper. Bangers and mash, obviously a bit of a family favourite, and it didn't matter that the potatoes were lumpy. Jack told them a few edited stories about his adventures, pretending he was talking about Australia when it had really happened in the Planet of the Wagworms; continuing with an adventure that happened, as he said, in New York, but it hadn't been last year, it was sixty-six years ago, and World War II hadn't even started yet.

He made them laugh, and everyone had seconds, and they finished off with chocolate pudding (more comfort food) and another drink.

When they turned on the television, the Alastair Sim movie Scrooge was just starting, and they all sat down because they all loved that one. They could all safely cry through it, blaming Tiny Tim. Jackie pretended she wasn't missing Pete. Rose pretended she wasn't afraid for her own future. Jack pretended he wasn't missing the Doctor and Rose, the Rose he had known on the TARDIS, the girl who was more full of life than the rest of the universe. Or so he had thought.

The girl this one soon would become.

Everything changes, he told himself. Everything too will pass. Rose will no longer have to work at Henrick's, not after her job gets blown up. She will have her time of happiness on the TARDIS, but that too will pass. And the same... for him too.

What he had was this moment, sitting in Rose's company, laughing over the jokes they shared and crying over Scrooge's transformation. She sat next to him on the sofa, and the scent of her was almost too much to bear. She smelled the same - no, she would smell the same, in the next six months or eight months or whatever it would be in her subjective timeline when he would meet her in 1941.

He longed to take her into his arms, but she wasn't that Rose yet. He had no right to ask her for comfort, even if he needed it. Torchwood was a shambles. The century had turned and the Doctor hadn't appeared, and perhaps never would. He could not die, but those he loved could and did, sometimes horribly. He was alone in a world he would never understand, which could never understand him. A world where no one believed in any of the basics truths of his life. They didn't believe men should love each other, or that people could love more than one person. They didn't believe in life on other planets. They didn't even believe in time travel.

But they believed in Dickens' faith in humanity, and for the moment, that was enough for Jack.

After the movie they sang some Christmas carols, mostly in tune, and played a game of cards. Rose won. She was sharp. Jack was distracted, and didn't care. This was happiness, here and now, seeing her alive and well and smiling.

Midnight, Christmas Eve. They hugged and wished each other Merry Christmas, and kissed each other's cheeks, and it was easy for Jack to slip some Retcon into the eggnog. He said, "Thank you, Jackie. You've given me a wonderful evening. Thank you for raising such a wonderful daughter, and you ain't half bad yerself."

She cuffed his shoulder and called him cheeky, and drank his Retcon.

"Mum must have been really exhausted," said Rose, when Jackie fell asleep on the chair in front of the Christmas tree, her glass barely empty. "She can usually party till dawn, or at least till the last guest goes."

"I'm going to have to leave now," said Jack.

"Really?" She looked disappointed. "You could stay. I mean," she blushed, fearing he was getting it wrong, that she sounded too forward. She wouldn't guess how much Jack would like to take it another way, take or make whatever opportunity there might be for something more that would have been wrong for its place in time and space and their lifelines, but which would be right in every way that touched their hearts. "I mean, the sofa's comfy enough and we have extra blankets, and it's a shame for you to have to go back alone to your hotel room. I think it's snowing again."

"I'll be all right," said Jack. "I'm always all right. Rose..." He took both her hands in his. "I'm sorry you won't remember this afterwards. I've really enjoyed having this evening with you."

"We could see each other again," said Rose hopefully. "I don't have much going on Boxing Day. Or Christmas Day, come to think of it. Or -" She stopped, because now she really was being forward, but she didn't care. "I'd like to see you again," she said honestly.

"You will. Rose, my dear Rose... You will be hanging from a barrage balloon in 1941 and I will have you framed in my binoculars. That meeting will change my life."

"What?" She wrinkled her nose, confused.

"A few months from now you will meet someone absolutely fantastic. He will take you places you never imagined. You will find yourself. And you will meet me - not far from here as miles go, but in another time and amazing circumstances. He'll save me, too, save me from myself. I'll find what I was meant to be, too."

"You're a fortune teller," said Rose. "Well, then, you're a bloody awful one. I've already met someone fantastic, and it's you. I can't tell what you're talking about."

"Amateur oracles are like that," said Jack, laughing. He pulled her into his arms, enjoying the embrace - the warmth, the scent, the softness of her hair against his cheek, the little vibration she made in her throat when he touched her, that was so very, very sexy - "It doesn't matter. You'll forget because all this because of the Retcon in your drink. Just let me say I love you, my Bad Wolf, and I always will."

"What?" He brushed his lips over hers. Anything more and he would lose control, break timelines, shatter the continuity that had given him such happiness.

"I miss you," he said. "Good-bye, Rose, and Happy Christmas."

Jack walked out before she could answer. He walked into the courtyard of the Powell Estates, and looked up at the sky. Somewhere beyond the clouds, beyond the solar system, in some distant time and place, was the TARDIS. Soon the Doctor would meet Rose in Henrick's, and tell her to run. She would run, and would not stop running for a very long time.

"Happy Christmas," Jack whispered to the stars he could not see.

\- end -


End file.
